Snake With Blue Eyes
by inspired by us
Summary: With the player of the school, everything is not what it seems. Maybe most of him is kept behind closed doors where no one can see. /Dawson Nott, character analysis.


**Snake With Blue Eyes**

_Dawson Nott_, character analysis

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His name is Dawson Nott, and one day he's going to rule the world.

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He's the only child of Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott, and therefore, from birth, has a lot on his shoulders. They expect greatness from him, and they pressure him with the belief that he is above everyone.

"Look at our adorable child," they coo. "Dawson, you're going to grow up to be a heartbreaker one day, I just know it."

They don't know how accurate their words are.

When he's young, he asks constantly why his name is Dawson. It's such a unique first name, and he doesn't ever meet anyone with the same name. His parents just smile and tell him it's a derivative of David, which means _beloved,_ and pat his head.

Growing up, his ego is constantly stroked. He has a personal maid, a cook, and two parents that fawn over him, telling him how adorable and smart he is. However, they instill the beliefs of his ancestors into his brain—_you're above those filthy mudbloods, Dawson Nott; do you hear me? You're not to associate with them at all_.

Sometimes, he just wants to marry someone that his parents would hate, just to irritate them. He wants to grasp rebellion in his fingertips and take the world by surprise, to prove to everyone that he's not just some pretty little pureblood.

He craves power, and he craves being loved. He wants to be able to manipulate people—to hold all their feelings in one hand and to be able to crush them whenever he'd like.

What's left of his conscience tells him that it's wrong, but the thing about Dawson Nott is that somewhere along the way, he forgets how to feel.

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Right before first year starts, he starts to notice the fighting. At night sometimes, the yelling is so loud that he can barely sleep. He just pushes a pillow over his head and attempts to pretend that it isn't happening. One thing that he is good at is _denial_.

Like any other normal child, the way that his parents act has an effect on how he sees the world. Since they do not seem to be in love anymore, and only seem to stay together just to keep up appearances, he starts to lose the belief that love exists. How can his parents, who once seemed to be so deeply in love, fall apart so easily?

He heads off to Hogwarts not long afterward, and what he sees there only reinforces his belief that love is nonexistent.

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Even before he goes to Hogwarts, he has the constant pressure of being reminded constantly that he _must_ be a Slytherin. His whole family has been in Slytherin, and therefore, he must be a Slytherin as well.

For a second, as he puts the hat on his head, he imagines the Hat putting him in something completely against his parent's expectations—Ravenclaw, perhaps, or Gryffindor. He sort of likes the idea.

_Ambitious, hm?_ The hat whispers. _Determined to prove yourself? And I see you don't seem to have many morals at all. Besides, you're a pureblood, a Nott. You wouldn't want to disappoint your family, now would you?_

He finds himself squirming a little bit, and he tries to protest internally. _No, it's not what it seems—_

_There's only one house for you,_ the Hat continues, ignoring him completely. _Welcome to…_ "SLYTHERIN!"

Tossing the Hat haphazardly to the ground, he struts over to his table confidently. Despite the fact that he's a first year, he feels none of the fear that most of the other students seem to exude.

He turns to the guy on his right, realizing that it's Nathaniel Flint, whom he's seen at various pureblood galas. With a smirk, he asks, "Dormmates?"

"Guess so," Nate replies, not looking affected at all. "See any good-looking girls in this house?"

"Yeah," Dawson replies after a moment of searching, "but hey, they'll fall for _me_ cause I'm more attractive and all."

Rolling his eyes, Nate just shakes his head as Dawson starts to scour the tables, looking at the good-looking upperclassmen.

..

Some people tend to call him cocky, but Dawson begs to differ.

Due to his upbringing, he doesn't really have any problems with self-confidence. He knows that he's good-looking, and every glance in the mirror reaffirms that. His brown hair is shaggy and falls just above his piercing blue eyes. He's muscular, due to his position as a beater, and his face is nearly flawless. He has no qualms with admitting the truth—that, in essence, he is a sexy beast.

At times, though, he wonders about himself and the way he's perceived by everyone else.

Like his father, he's a shameless flirt from first year on. He's never been nervous around girls or upperclassmen, but sometimes, he wonders if that's an annoyance instead of a strength.

In seventh year, his self-esteem dips a significant amount. He feels the first signs of insecurity, in fact, but he keeps up appearances because he's Dawson Nott and he _shouldn't_ be feeling this way, really.

..

Like most Slytherins, Dawson Nott harbours quite a few secrets that he wouldn't ever want anyone to know. Such as the time he sat outside, under a tree, and cast the Crucio curse on a stray spider.

The adrenaline pumping through his veins gave him a rush like none he'd ever felt before, and for the first time ever, he felt powerful, as if this dark magic gave him a strange sort of power that he'd never been in possession of before. Biting his lip, he cast yet another curse.

Later that day, he sneaks into the library, to the Restricted Section, and snuck a book of curses off of the shelf. He's only twelve, but he feels that he should at least be educated on them, in case of emergency.

He tries not to think of the strange rush of power he gets whenever he cast them.

..

The one thing that gets most people is his inability to feel.

Sure, he feels pain sometimes, but not quite as acutely as other people. Most of the time, though, he doesn't feel anything.

At the beginning of seventh year, he realizes that he'd never once had romantic feelings for a girl. People call him a player because he shags girls, kisses them, but he would never stay with them for . He moves from girl to girl as fast as light, and most girls hate him at some point. In fact, most people hated him at some point, and he knew it too.

He didn't hate them back. He didn't know how.

Sometimes, he felt something like happiness. However, he had no temper, because he was never angry.

People tend to find the whole lack-of-romance because he couldn't feel thing the weirdest, but he thinks that it is rather simple. He'd seen the lack of love in his parents' relationship, and decided that he didn't want to love. It is just that simple. If he doesn't believe in something, then it is impossible to feel it.

At least, that's what he thought, up until the middle of seventh year.

..

In seventh year, his 'love life' (or rather, lack of one) gets all the more complicated. He starts to feel _something, _and whether it's love or something entirely foreign, he doesn't know. He just knows that it makes him angry all the time.

Life was better when he didn't feel, he decides.

..

Sometime during seventh year, his parents separate. Everyone pretends to have sympathy, but being a Slytherin, he sees right through it. Like a zombie, he walks around the school, not having words for anyone. All he can see (in the back of his mind) is the bright image of his parents kissing, looking on top of the world. Then the bubble pops, and he cries out abruptly, but it's too late.

Everyone tries to reassure him that it will be okay, but he highly doubts that. He doesn't know if they'll ever get back together again.

He feels as if he's five again—worrying about his _parents_, who, to be completely honest, he never worries about, and about his sister and how she's dealing—but he doesn't care.

Then people seem to notice that he actually has feelings, and he thinks that he can't have them knowing that, so he buries them deep down and pretends like he's not about to explode. He pretends that the constant owls coming in the mail are not a constant source of stress for him.

_Dear Dawson,_

_Your mother and I just differ in ways of sight, so I was wondering if you could explain something to her. You're a boy like me, so I suppose that you would agree. Anyway, tell your mother that she looks beautiful without makeup and therefore does not need to spend loads of money on facial—_

_Dear Dawson,_

_Your father and I have hit a rough patch, so I was wondering if you could deliver a message—_

_Son,_

_Tell your mother—_

_Dawson,_

_Tell your father—_

One day, he gathers up all the letters and tosses them into the fire with no regrets. He watches them as they burn and pretends that his problems burn with them.

..

One day, he realises that most people don't see him as anything but a conceited player. Which, on the outside, he supposes that's what he is, but in reality, he doesn't feel conceited at all.

With a wink, he asks the person, "What makes you think that you know me at all?"

The girl's mouth snaps open, but then she closes it. "I guess I don't know you, but I also guess that I don't want to."

He sighs, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his chair. He wonders if anyone in the world will ever be able to see him for what he really is—more than just a conceited player.

No one knows about his familial problems or his lack of love, and he doesn't want them to. The last thing that he wants is their pity.

At times, he thinks that he would like to feel real love—not the fake substitute that his parents had conjured up, or the love from his sisters and cousins (because they were _forced_ to love him), but the love (however fake it may be) that seems to exude from the couples that prance around the school.

The problem is, he's _Dawson Nott_ and no one's ever going to love him.

That much, he's sure of.

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He sits by the edge of a river, gazing in at his reflection. The person that stares back at him is admittedly attractive, but for once, he can only see the outside. For a moment, he sees just what other people see—the cocky smirk, the shaggy hair, the piercing eyes.

He also finds that he doesn't like it.

For a moment, he contemplates just jumping in. Since he can't swim, he imagines that he'll sink to the bottom and never emerge. Down there, he won't be able to screw up anyone else's lives. He won't cause any more trouble. He won't break any more hearts.

Somehow, though, he can't bring himself to do it.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he trails a hand above the surface of the water. He tries to make himself forget what it's like to feel and he tries to get his brain working the same way as before, like when he never felt anything for anyone. These feelings of insecurity and fear are getting to be a bit too much.

He tosses a rock into the water and watches as it sinks, settling on the bottom in a haphazard fashion.

He wonders what the school would be like if that had been him instead.

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"Dawson," his first year cousin asks him with a smile, "do you ever feel like you're not good enough?"

"Me?" Dawson asks with a flip of his hair and a wink. "Of course not. I'm too sexy to feel that way. I'm always the star, you know."

She gives Dawson a look and walks off.

Frowning, he glances at the crowd and wonders how he's ever going to stand out.

_(Liar.)_

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His name is Dawson Nott, and he might have messed up a little along the way.

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**A/N: For my character on the facebook RPG, Dawson Nott, son of Theodore and Daphne Nott. Don't own anything.**

**Still think he's the devil, Siddy? ;)**


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